


dead boy walking

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Gun Violence, M/M, Obsessive Behavior, bottom!Jared, school shooting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 14:56:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5630662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a new boy in Jensen's class.</p>
            </blockquote>





	dead boy walking

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine
> 
> title from "heathers" broadway musical

There's a new boy in Jensen's class.

 

Ms. Logwood makes him stand at the front of the class and introduce himself. He's tall, tall, tall, and rail thin. It looks like he wants to curl into himself, or maybe crawl out of his own skin. His green Michigan State hoodie looks about six sizes too big and his jeans with the holes in the knees three sizes too small. His name is some barely whispered thing that Jensen, in the far right corner of the back of the class, can't hear. It's enough to satisfy Ms. Logwood though, she sends him to the only available seat in the overpacked remedial class, one row and one seat over from Jensen. It offers him the perfect view.

 

The boy goes the long way, around the desks and not through, so not to draw any attention to himself. He's practically stumbling over the untied laces of his dirty shoes in his haste. When he reaches the back of the room, he slides through the space between Jensen and Eliza Newton. The sleeve of his jacket brushes her bare arm and Jensen see's her face twist in disgust at the contact. Jensen pines, wishes it were him.

 

He molds his long limbs and long body into the chair, and pulls a dull #2 pencil from the kangaroo pouch of his sweater. He tries to dig through his bag for paper without anyone noticing him, but Jensen has been holding his breath ever since he walked in. Hastily, he rips a piece of lined paper from his own notebook and shoves it under the boy's nose.

 

“Here,” he says, his voice gruff and louder than intended. Half the class and Ms. Logwood alike turn to glare at them, and the boy blushes a bright scarlet color, ducking his head and excepting Jensen's offering.

 

They all turn away, and the boy whispers in a beautiful low purr, “thank you,” and turns in his seat. He starts to write his name in a careful, boyish scrawl.  _ Jared Padalecki. _

 

Jensen turns the name over in his head for the rest of the period. The rest of the day. He says it out loud for the first time at the end of the day, in his car, during the short trip between his home and Jesup H. Anderson High School. “Jared Padalecki.” It sounds clumsy on his tongue, and he's probably pronouncing it wrong, but it settles something in his chest. Releases the breath he's been holding since his fifth hour class.

 

\---

 

Jensen sits next to him at the lunch the next day, sees him sitting alone at the far end of a table full of kids with glasses and terrible acne scars. He's wading his plastic white spork through Tuesday's Mystery Meat and Monday’s gray-tinged gravy, but he never brings it up to his mouth. He doesn't seem to notice it when Jensen sits down in front of him. Or when he says hello. So he says it again.

 

“Hello.”

 

Jared's head jerks up like it's being controlled by a string. He looks around the room before he finally turns his attention to Jensen. He looks like he doesn't recognize him, and it makes Jensen feel rotten. You'd have to soak his memories in bleach to make  _ him  _ forget.

 

“Hi,” Jared says, already refocused on his inedible lunch. He's wearing mustard yellow T-shirt with holes in the collar, and a bright red heart drawn in Sharpie on the forearm of his left sleeve. Jensen wonders if he had a girlfriend wherever he moved from. The thought makes his face go hot with anger.

 

“I'm Jensen,” he replies, instead of flipping the table, like he wants to.

 

“I'm Jared,” Jared says back, offhandedly like Jensen doesn't already know and it isn't totally, all-encompassingly important.

 

“I know,” Jensen says back, instead of slamming his mouth against Jared's until he tastes blood, like he wants to.

 

If that strikes Jared as odd, he doesn't say anything. He looks ready to be done talking, but Jensen isn't.

 

“You've got a great mouth,” he blurts, because it's been on a constant loop in his head since yesterday and he desperately wanted to keep Jared.

 

It makes Jared look up, but he doesn't look disgusted, or angry, like another boy might. Instead, the corners of that mouth twitch into a smile (dimples, he's got beautiful dimples) and he says, “Thanks, maybe I'll blow you sometime.”

 

He does, two weeks later while Jensen's sitting on four months dirty camouflage sheets, kneeling between his knees with an expert mouth. Jared has him shooting his load down his throat in five minutes, and he's gone almost as fast, his own dick completely soft in his jeans.

 

\---

 

“I hate her,” Jared says of Ms. Logwood. Spits it actually, pacing the length of Jensen's tiny bedroom with grasshopper-long legs in nothing but an old pair of Spongebob Squarepants boxers he found in Jensen's drawer and a white T-shirt with a hundred girlish signatures on it.

 

“She's not so bad,” Jensen shrugs. He already dislikes her on principle because she teaches something as atrocious as Remedial Physics, but he never felt the need to spit fire about her like Jared does.

 

“And that girl that sits next to you in her class, Eliza Newton. And that asshole on the debate team, Freddie Scott. God,” Jared stops pacing right in front of where Jensen is sprawled on his twin-sized bed and starts chewing his fingernails. “I wish they were dead. I wish they were all fucking dead.”

 

Jensen reaches for him, but Jared flinches away. It makes him want to cower away and press him close to his chest all at the same time. That's how Jared makes him feel, violently angry, and pathetically rejected all at once. But mostly he makes Jensen scared, not because of how flippantly he talks about murdering half of the school.

 

Jared told him once that he never stays with one family member too long, after his parents died. They toss him around like a hacky sack and it turned Jared cold. It makes Jensen want to fold him up and stuff him in his pocket, or swallow him whole. So that Jared is always with him and has no choice but to love him.

 

He makes another grab for Jared's skinny wrist and latches on tight enough to bruise. He pulls his boy in until he seated on his lap, wraps his arms around that tiny waist and looks up into multicolored eyes with serious green ones.

 

“I'll do it for you,” he promises, arms circling Jared a little tighter. “I'll kill them all if you want, I swear.”

 

Jared's eyes light up, kid-in-a-candy-store glee. He smiles and twin dimples carve into his face like parenthesis. “You would?”

 

Jensen pokes a finger into one of those dimples, rubs a hand over his love's face until he's got a hand fisted in messy hair. He pulls Jared forward until their foreheads are touching and they're sharing breaths. “I'd do anything for you.”

 

Jared beams at that, his smile bigger and brighter than anything Jensen's ever seen. “I love you.”

 

That same thing unlocks in Jensen's chest, like it did the first time he said his boy's name. “I love you, too.”

 

Jared brings his lips down to Jensen's in a playful peck.  _ “Duh.” _

 

They fuck for the first time that night. Jared is hot and wet inside, Jensen's perfect fit. He rides him, taking every inch, his own hard cock leaking messy wet against his own stomach. Jared works his hips, arches his back, whispers dirty hot promises in Jensen's ear.

 

“I love you,” he says, bouncing on Jensen’s dick hard, and fast, taking him to the hilt. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

 

Jensen comes, shooting hot and turning Jared's insides white.

 

Jared whimpers, twisting his hips and tries to go faster. He pants, “Say it again, say it again, Jen, please.”

 

“God, I,  _ fuck _ ,” Jensen's hips stutter, his cock twitching in renewed interest as he watches the place where his body connects to Jared's. “I, I'd do anything for you. I'll kill them all,  _ I'd do anything.” _

 

Jared comes then, paints Jensen's chest and his own.

 

He leans down and kisses Jensen sweetly (he sucks cock like a whore, but he always kisses like a virgin). “I love you,” Jared says again.

 

Jensen comes inside him for the second time.

 

\---

 

He steals an old gun from his dad's shed that he used to use for hunting. He wishes he had something a little less obvious, but it doesn't really matter. He picks Jared up on his way to school Monday morning. He's standing outside of his grandmother's house. The lawn is cluttered with beat-up ceramic gnomes and those pink plastic flamingos.

 

His love climbs into his car, and smiles at him like they share a secret. They do, for now.

 

Jensen pulls up close to the school. They made sure to show up twenty minutes late to insure that everyone was in class.

 

He takes a long look at Jared, but it doesn't feel like the last one they'll share. “Stay in the car,” he says.

 

Jared smiles big, and nods his head.

 

Jensen goes in.

 

\---

 

He kills Ms. Logwood first, during her freshman Physical Science class. Shoots one of the little brats too, because he remembers she told him to pray for what he and Jared had done. He rips the phone out of the wall and throws it towards the unoccupied desk where he usually sits.

 

After that it's Eliza Newton in Study Hall. Then Freddie Scott in Pre-Calculus. Jesse Bishop, and Hope Davis, and Becky Green. The sixty-four year old librarian that used to smack his hand with a ruler freshman year.

 

Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.

 

He tosses the gun aside near the main office, and slaps a big smile on his face. Wait till Jared sees. He'll be so happy, so proud.

 

When he goes outside to meet his love, the car is gone.

 

\---

When they come for him, Jensen doesn't resist.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are appreciated


End file.
